


Small Talk As Recovery

by saccharinepeccadillo



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anorexia, Bulimia, Bullying, Cuddling, Cutting, Depression, Derogatory Language, Dissociation, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Hospital Trip, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Joseph Marilyn and Damien are mentioned, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, References to Depression, Robert has problems w/ Joseph in this fic but they arent really mentioned too much, Self-Harm, Slurs, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Threats of Violence, Violence, Vomiting, attempts at humor, drug overdose, mild homophobia, sometimes a family is two dads a drunk lady and a daughter or two, this became way more domestic than i thought it would, what have i become where im writing domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-10 15:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saccharinepeccadillo/pseuds/saccharinepeccadillo
Summary: Robert hasn't contacted you in three weeks and two days. You get a phone call at 3 am and your world (almost) comes crashing down around you.(hey it'sa me back at it again with the pushing my problems onto fictional characters that i relate to!! this time with my debut of attempting a ship fic, wouldja look at that)





	1. Prologue.

You hadn't heard from Robert for exactly three weeks and two days. He had told you he needed space, sure, but this was getting ridiculous. Did he just want to get rid of you and didn't have the heart to tell you? No, you tell yourself, that couldn't be it. You know that Robert was the kind of person who would just tell you if he didn't like you anymore. You had been going out with Mary to Jim and Kim's more and more ever since his sudden and unexplained disappearance from your lives, and you had talked about it. You talked about it a lot, actually. She told she hadn't been in contact with him for about as long as you had, which was both reassuring and depressing. You both had tapered down the bar-going at around week two, and now rarely talked except for what you knew were empty promises of getting together again over text.  
Tonight was one of the nights where your anxiety over the situation was cranked up to eleven. Amanda had gone to bed with a, "Please get some rest Pops, the bags under your eyes are almost worse than...." she had stopped herself and let the sentence trail off before heading to her room.   
It's 1 a.m. and you're standing in the kitchen with the fridge door open. You realize you had been standing there for a while now, staring vacantly at the contents. Not really hungry, just trying to distract yourself from the worries and doubts swirling around in your head. You close the door and look at your recent text conversations (DadBook had become tedious,) with Robert. 

You (two weeks ago): Wanna go bar hopping tonight? Mary's treat. :)  
You (a week and a half ago): Wanna hang out? It's very nice out 2night. Cryptid hunting?  
You (a week ago): Just wanted to let you know Mary and I are thinking of you. We're only a house away.   
You (three days ago): Hey, wanna hang out? I heard there's a new movie that just came out that you might enjoy. Can't remember the name of it, though. It looks fun. 

You decide that just laying in bed might help, even if you don't end up sleeping. Before heading to your bedroom, you send one last text. 

You: I miss you, Robert. Let me know if you need anything, okay?

You feel guilty as you hit the send button, but you aren’t entirely sure why.


	2. Chapter 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy were finally startin off, and with a big ol bang! this is going to be the longest fic ive posted yet, ive already written it all but it needs editing so it might update slower than usual! please for the love of god mind the tags as usual, especially on this chapter

The last person you expect to be calling you at 3 a.m. is Mary Christiansen.   
Groggily, you debate for a couple phone rings whether you should pick it up or not. The third ring is when your patience runs thin and you pick up, mostly just to figure out why such a bizarre occurrence is happening at such a late (early?) time. A gravelly and sleep soaked hello is barely past your lips before you hear Mary’s panicked and trembling voice cut through the line.   
"Roberts house. Right now." Despite her obvious panic, she sounds determined, focused. A cold and unpleasant spike of fear shoots up your spine, curling behind your scalp and up over your forehead.   
"...What??"   
"I'm not fucking joking around kid, get your ass over here right now or you're dead meat before morning." She starts to laugh hysterically and without a hint of humor, but stops herself. You think you hear the sound of something coughing in the background. The mixture of noises sends a primal fear coursing through you. "The door is unlocked. Please hurry." She hangs up before you have time to answer. You climb out of bed and run to your front door on shaky legs, stumbling around a turn in the hallway and almost falling over. Instead you crash into the wall, but thankfully, the adrenaline outweighs the pain, and you keep making your way to the front door. As you’re shoving your shoes on, you hear Amanda's voice from the hallway.   
"Dad? What are you...?" You turn to face her with your hand on the door, and try to stop your shaking.   
"Panda, watch the house, please. I'll be back soon." Your attempts at ceasing to shake and hiding your fear were not successful apparently, as Amanda's face immediately mimics what you assume yours looks like. It scares you to see her look so fearful. When she talks again her voice is more quiet, as if talking to loudly will set off something.   
"Dad, what's going on?"   
"Mary.... Mary and Robert need me. I'm sure... I’m pretty sure that it's nothing." You nod to yourself, trying to reassure yourself that it is, probably, in fact, nothing. It doesn't work. "I love you. I'll be right back." Without waiting for her answer, you slip quickly through the front door and out into the night. You jog across your lawn onto Robert’s property, feeling like you’re taking too long despite your speed. You almost knock on the door until you remember Mary saying it was unlocked. As you open it and walk inside, you pray that this is somehow just a sick prank. Some sick prank that they’ve been planning for months.   
You know Mary and Robert well enough now that they wouldn’t have the heart or the energy to pull something like this as a prank, but you try to fool yourself anyway.  
The living room is empty, with old beer bottles and dirty clothes littering the floor. "Mary?" You call out. No answer. "Robert?" You hear Betsy bark and see her run down the hall towards you. Instead of her usual greeting of jumping up onto you and licking your face, she stops midway and starts whining, pacing back and forth a couple feet between you and the hallway. You get the message quickly and follow her. You try calling for Mary again, and this time you hear her answer from the bathroom, her voice muffled by the walls. Betsy runs up by the door and whines loudly.   
When you look inside, the first thing you see is Mary, sitting on the floor. She is holding the hand of Robert, who has his head halfway into the toilet bowl and is dry heaving violently. Mary is clutching her cross necklace with the hand not gripping Robert’s, and when she sees you her lip starts to tremble.   
"Oh thank god you're here." As you stumble towards Robert and drop to your knees on the other side of him, Mary turns back towards him and rubs his back. "He's here now Robert." You tentatively raise your hands above his back, afraid that if you touch him it will somehow only hurt him more. He doesn't flinch however, and you let your hand fall onto his back next to Mary's. Robert doesn't react to either of you, too focused on breathing and shaking to do much else.  
"What happened?" Neither of them answer you, and you aren't sure if they didn't hear you, or if they heard you and just refuse to answer. You decide to examine the room around you a little more closely, and the more you look, the worse it gets. An assortment of pill bottles scatter the floor, and in the shower you see an almost empty full sized vodka bottle. You think you see pills mixed in with Robert’s bile but are too disgusted too look too long at it, and multiple naked razor blades sit on the counter. Beneath your hand, Robert is trembling fiercely, and without his signature leather jacket on you can feel the ridges of his spine and his rib cage through his shirt. Slowly the pieces come together, until a final, horrific understanding hits you. Your hand involuntarily spasms into a fist, gripping a handful of Roberts shirt.   
"Robert... you-"   
Robert gasps for a lungful of air. "Shut up." You comply, not yet willing to face the image of how Robert got to this state. He manages to cough out out a little more vomit in the midst of the next minute of heaving, which you guess is a good thing, since it’s getting rid of what his body needs to get rid of. It still looks painful. You try to even your breathing and calm yourself, but the air feels clogged with the stench of stomach acid and alcohol. As panic and fear overtake you once again, the logical voice in your brain takes over.   
"Mary, he needs to go to a hospital."   
"No, I don't." Robert finally leans back from the seat and almost falls into the wall behind him, only being stopped from collision by you and Mary. Despite the harshness of his voice, his face and demeanor look subdued and distant, his eyes glazed over and staring out into the middle distance at nothing. You feel his forehead, which glistens in the artificial light with sweat. The fact that he doesn't try to stop you is almost more worrisome than the heat you feel with your hand. Mary is staring at you, and when you look back at her you note how pale her face is.   
"This has never happened before." She whispers it, as if afraid that Robert might hear her. He doesn't seem to. "I mean... it's never been this bad." Another wave of panic overtakes you, and you start to run your fingers through Roberts greasy, unkempt hair. It sounds like Mary is implying that he's done similar things before, but you shoo the thought away before it can manifest into something more. You need to focus. You fix Mary with what you hope is a determined stare, but feel like is probably closer to a terrified plea.   
"Mary, call an ambulance."   
"No!" This time you feel Robert grab the front of your shirt, but when you look down he still isn't looking at you. "That'll cost too much money. Please, I'm fine, I don't need-" his body seizes up and he devolves back into coughs and heaves. Once he stops you soothingly smooth back the hair from his face and look back at Mary.   
"We'll drive him there."   
"There's not enough room is his truck for all three of us. Not when he’s like this."   
You think for a second.   
"We’ll use my car." Mary is the first to get up, grounding herself with a task as she rushes out of the bathroom. You scoop Robert up into your arms and follow her. Despite his size, he feels as light as a feather, and you curse yourself for not noticing the signs sooner. You're unable to close the front door behind you, and Betsy follows you out at the heels, still whining loudly. You silently agree with her sentiment. Mary is already at your front door, and she calls back to you over her shoulder.  
"Where are your keys?"   
"They should be on the-" the door opens in front of her, and Mary steps back in shock as Amanda peeks her head out.   
"Mrs. Christiansen?" Mary’s hands shake as she wrings them anxiously, trying to peer past Amanda into the house.   
"Keys-car keys-your dad's-" almost immediately Amanda is shoving your car keys into Mary’s hands.   
"Mrs. Christiansen, is everything okay?" Mary doesn't answer, instead looking back at you as you come up behind her with Robert. His face is pressed into your chest, features contorted in pain, and every minute you can feel his breathing getting more shallow and quick. You distantly hear Betsy barking now, and she runs between you and Amanda.   
"Mary, can you get the car please?" Amanda quickly steps out of the way as Mary brushes past her and towards the garage port. Amanda glances back and forth between you and Robert, eyes wide.   
"Dad, what's going on? Is Robert okay?" You readjust your hold on Robert and hold him closer to you.   
"Sweetie, I need you to watch Betsy, okay? We're taking Robert to the hospital. Oh, and can you close Robert’s front door too please?" Amanda reaches down and picks up Betsy, who miraculously stops barking, and instead starts licking Amanda's face.   
"Okay." You hear the garage door open.   
"I love you Panda, it's gonna be okay." Amanda nods her head. You think she might be trying to hold back tears.   
"I love you too, dad."   
Once you have slipped into the back of your car with Robert, Mary starts speeding towards the local hospital. She doesn't say a word, but from the back seat you see her jaw clenching and unclenching. Robert leans against you, surprisingly calm. You wrap your arm around his waist, and he lets his head fall against your shoulder. In any other circumstance you'd be getting butterflies at the proximity and openness, but right now your heart is hammering in your chest for a much different reason.   
"You guys... are assholes." You can tell he's trying to deflate the situation with humor, and you try to force out a chuckle. It comes out as a shaky huff of breath that’s much closer to a sob than you would like it to be.   
You retort, "Oh yeah, we’re the assholes." It's meant to sound sarcastic, but by the time you finish the sentence it's stated as a fact.   
God, you really are an asshole. Why didn't you check in on him sooner? If you hadn’t been such an idiot and a wimp, none of this would have happened. Robert could still be safe, and happy, and not actively dying in your car.  
You hug his side tighter, afraid that if you let go he'll fall apart. He usually seems so unbreakable, so immortal and ethereal, that right now feels like it could just be a fever dream, if the fear wasn’t so real. He turns his head so that his mouth rests against your neck.   
"I'm... afraid of dying." He whispers it, but it is the loudest sound in the car to you. Your breath hitches in your throat, suffocating the sob that was about to escape.   
"Then don't." As you furiously scrub at your eyes, trying to force yourself to of cry, you feel Robert’s head start to bob slowly, as if fighting off sleep. "Robert Small, don't you dare fall asleep." He pulls back just enough for you to see him stick his tongue out at you.   
"I've got a probl'm with authority, old man." His eyelids droop down and he sways forward before catching himself.   
"Robert, I mean it."   
"And I mean i' too." His words slur together more and more with each new sentence, making your anxiety spike every time he opens his mouth. He starts to shake violently, and his breathing goes back to shallow and fast. He looks into your eyes and for the first time that night you see a morbid clarity in them.   
"I changed my mind."   
".... What?"  
His face, which for most of the night had been calm and detached, was becoming panicked. He averts his gaze, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "I changed my mind. I don't want to die." This is the first time he’s mentioned the fact that he’s dying, and your heart leaps into your throat. Carefully, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him in close, kissing his temple.   
"Good, because you're not going to." He doesn't respond, and you can sense that his numbness to the world has returned. Mary speaks up from the driver’s seat, voice shaking.  
"We're here."


	3. Chapter 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital

After handing Robert over to the nurses and being sternly told by one of them, "family only" before they disappeared with him down the hospital hallway, you and Mary sit in the waiting room. You're both trying to keep your cool, but you can tell you're both going to reach a boiling point soon. You decide to break the silence.  
"... Should we call Val?" Mary just shrugs and keeps staring at the wall across from her. Giving up on connection for now, you pull out your phone and feel a start when you see how many notifications you have. You open your phone to find all of them to be from Amanda. 

Amanda: is robert ok??? what happened???  
Amanda: please tell me hes just really hungover or smth  
Amanda: dad youre worrying me  
Amanda: (missed call)  
Amanda: (missed call)  
Amanda: well whatever happened please tell robert that  
Amanda: i hope he feels better soon? i guess? i hope he doesnt die or whatevers going on??  
Amanda: (missed call: 4)  
Amanda: well mrs c wont pick up her phone either  
Amanda: im gonna contact val

"God dammit, Amanda." You sigh and call her phone. Mary snaps her head back towards you. She suddely looks worried again.  
"What did she do?"  
"She called Val, I guess, since neither of us answered her."  
"She really is your daughter, huh? Nosy little shits, the both of you." Her words hold no malice, and as she sits back down you hold your hand out for her. She gladly takes it. You hear the phone pick up on the other end.  
"Hey Dad. Val's here at the house if that's why you're calling."  
"Thank you Panda, can I talk to her please?" Your grip on Mary's hand tightens as you hear Amanda call for Robert’s daughter.  
"What the fuck did you do to my dad." You feel another pang of guilt wrack your body, reminding you that you could have absolutely prevented this. You take a deep breath; Now is not the time to be unloading your own baggage onto your best friends daughter. Or anyone, for that matter.  
"Val, you can kill me later. Please come to the hospital, Rober- I mean, your dad needs you."  
"Bullshit. My father doesn't 'do' hospitals." You don't say anything, letting that information sink into you. He had been unwilling to go to the hospital at first, but the way Val is stating it, it sounds as if he would kill himself before setting foot in one.  
You guess that’s not entirely untrue.  
"You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?" The resemblance to her father would be laughable if it wasn't so terrifying.  
"I'll let him tell you." She says nothing. "... Please Val, they only let family in. He needs you. We don’t know what’s going on in there right now, and he’s..." You look at Mary, who is trembling, “Val, it’s not good.”  
You hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. "I'll be there in five. He better be alive when I get there." The line goes dead. You let your hand with the phone drop into your lap, and you stare at the wall Mary was looking at earlier. What did you do wrong? He said he wanted space, should you have pushed him to be more social? The more you think about it, the more you feel like if you had done something, anything at all, none of this would have happened. It is an eerily similar feeling to when you lost Amanda’s dad.  
"It's not your fault, you know." You let out what you hope can pass as a chuckle at Mary's words. Her hand starts to shake in yours. "It was mine." Your head whips up to look at her, unsure of what she’s getting at.  
She sounds guilty of something, and suspicions start buzzing around your head, mounting quickly into the impossible. "What??" Fat tears roll down her cheeks, and she avoids looking at your face.  
"I kept unloading my baggage onto him. I was the one who kept asking him to come drink with me, so. There’s that."  
Oh. She was blaming herself for no reason. A voice in the back of your head that sounds an awful lot like Amanda whispers, "just like you", but you elect to ignore it.  
"Mary, it's not your-"  
"You don't understand!!!" She practically screams and stands up, earning you a worried look from the nurse at the front desk. Mary looks embarrassed and sits back down hastily, repeating herself more quietly. "You don't understand. A couple years ago, we...." she shudders. "We talked about it, you know? How nice it would be to just escape. Forever. Not deal with the bullshit anymore. But it helped knowing that we weren't alone, and I thought... I thought me being there for him would be enough, that knowing someone else who was feeling the same things would be enough, like how him being there for me was enough." You feel like you can no longer breath. "Eventually, I guess Joseph caught on somehow and staged an intervention of sorts. Tried to get us to go to therapy. Tried to have more barbecues." She sighs again, trying to contain her voice to indoor volumes despite crying. "Robert has so much... so much baggage. I would say you should wait for him to tell you about it, but it doesn't look like that really worked out." She looks at you, smiling and hiccuping. "He loves you so much, you know that? Before you came along he never talked to anybody. Fucking hell, he barely even talked to me. You know how he hates small talk. But god, getting the chance to talk about you? He would go on for hours. You make him…. so happy." You feel your own tears rolling down your face and hitting the hand in your lap, cooling the skin rapidly. It takes a minute for you to find your voice.  
"I should have called him. He said he wanted space, I thought... maybe he would feel better if I just left him alone for a while." Mary squeezes your hand tighter.  
"I did too. We both did."  
"I'm an idiot, Mary. How did I not realize? I feel.... like this is because of me. Like maybe if I hadn't come into his life, maybe he'd still be-"  
"Don't you dare say that, don't you dare fucking say that. You can't see how much you light up his life, but I can. You're the fucking sun to him. This is not because of you." You chuckle, feeling sick for taking her words so lightly, and for not believing them. You’re starting to feel numb, like this is all just a bad dream, and emotions are becoming skewed. Mary gives you a confused look, and you try to hold onto the reality of things for just a bit longer.  
"Well then, it's not because of you either, Mary." She’s looking at you sadly, as if she can see everything you’re thinking and feeling. It’s like she can see you letting go of your emotions and becoming number and number by the second, just so you can cope, just so the pain and fear doesn’t overwhelm you.  
You're suddenly and inexplicably bombarded with images of Robert.  
Robert, dead and alone on his bathroom floor. Robert, dead in a hospital bed. Robert, dead in the middle of the highway, his guts spread across the pavement like roadkill. Robert, dead outside of Jim and Kim's, laying face down in a pool of his own vomit. Robert, dead, alone. You’re emotions hit you again, full force.  
"Mary, what are we gonna do?" You feel a sob tear through your body and you're pulled towards her, burying your face into her shirt front as she grips you tightly. She presses her cheek into the top of your head and doesn't respond. After a couples minutes you hear the click clack of heels coming up to the two of you, but you don't bother looking up. Val's voice is much softer than how it sounded over the phone.  
"Do you know which room he's in Mary?" You hear Mary sniff, and she takes one of her hands away to wipe at her eyes.  
"I don't, sweetie... you'll have to ask one of the nurses."  
"Thank you." You hear her heels moving away, but they stop. "I'll... try to keep you two updated."  
"Thank you, Val. That would mean a lot."  
After Val talks to the nurse at the front desk and is led away, you pull away to check your phone. 

Amanda: i know you wont tell val whats going on but can you tell me?  
Amanda: promise i wont tell anyone  
Amanda: ?  
Amanda: are you and mary ok

You sigh and text back. 

You: we're fine. and no absolutely not I won't tell you, maybe when you're older you can ask Robert himself.

Morbidly, you add to yourself, “If he’s still alive after tonight.” Almost instantly your phone dings with a new message. 

Amanda: dad im 18 youre gonna have to try real hard to scare me :P 

Unsure of what to do, you hold the phone’s screen up to Mary. "Amanda wants to know what happened." Mary takes the phone from you and scrolls back a little ways, reading through the messages.  
"God, it really does run in the family. I wouldn't give her specifics, but give her enough info to calm her down. I think she's scared for him too." You nod. Despite not knowing each other for a long time and not talking much, Amanda and Robert seemed to get along very well. The fact that Amanda felt so comfortable calling Val and letting her come over also told you the two girls might have grown closer while you weren't looking. You glare accusingly at your phone for not giving you the answers you need before typing, trying to handpick your words carefully.

You: Robert had an accident. He's not in a very good place right now, but he's going to get better.

You pause your typing and turn towards Mary. "I don't trust him being alone after this. Not for a while." Mary nods.  
"Trust me, my house would just make it worse. The last thing Robert needs right now is my husband. I think he might appreciate it in the long run if you let him crash at your place." 

You: Robert is going to be staying with us for a while, if that's okay. 

After hitting send you're suddenly struck with the worry that Amanda secretly does not like him and won't let him stay with the two of you. You're reminded once again that you’re an idiot. 

Amanda: oh  
Amanda: uh  
Amanda: i think i know what youre trying to say  
Amanda: ill get the living room ready  
Amanda: and get the bathroom safe?  
Amanda: and the kitchen  
Amanda: wait do we need to baby proof the kitchen? is that a thing people do?  
Amanda: please dont tell me we have to get rid of all of our cutlery and spices  
Amanda: i like being able to eat food without screaming at it 

You know she's trying to be funny, and you appreciate it immensely. Your daughter always knows what to do in the moment.

You: Not the kitchen, but if you could get the couch ready and the living room tidied up a little bit that would be great. Thank you, Panda. 

Mary peers over your shoulder at your chat. "Damn, she catches on quick. You're daughter is going places, buddy." As your chest swells with pride, Mary’s phone dings. Both of you suck in a sharp breath of worry, and she pulls it out of her purse and scans the screen. "It's Val. She says... it'll be a couple hours before they let him out. He’s in worse shape than we thought,but he’s almost definitely going to make it.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and Mary’s shoulders untense. “I'll tell her to take him to your place?" You nod wearily. After she sends the text, you both get up and head out to your car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it says the work is 8 chapters long but im considering making it longer, but i might also make this into a series, who knowssss well seeee  
> ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS COMMENTED THERES SO MUCH LOVE AND SUPPORT COMING IN AND ITS MAKING ME SO SO HAPPY, IM GLAD YOU'RE ALL EXCITED BC I AM TOO!!!! I HOPE YALL ENJOY  
> EDIT: i keep writing more chapters with the intent to make it angstier but it just keeps coming out as fluff its like im trying to shoot flames out of my hands but cotton candy comes out instead i hope yall like both


	4. Chapter 3.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting

Once you get home , you and Mary find Amanda fast asleep on the sofa with Betsy on her chest, both of them snoring peacefully. Mary sits in your armchair, looking almost lost, and you go into the kitchen to make coffee, and to possibly to avoid the emotions you know are boiling just under the surface. Once you come back out into the living room, you find that Amanda has awoken, and her and Mary are talking sleepily.  
"... So you're telling me your kids aren't possessed?"  
"Unfortunately, they get their sense of humor from me. I think they're going through a phase."  
Both of them stop talking and look up when you enter the room. Mary’s smile is strained. "Hey, sailor."  
"Hey. Made us some coffee." You hand her a mug and she gladly accepts it, blowing on it briefly before chugging it. You wince. Does she drink anything normally?  
"Dad, can I go to bed yet?" She pouts out her bottom lip and tries to give you puppy dog eyes. Betsy sits up and copies her face. It is the exact same expression. You laugh, and you hear Mary chuckle beside you.  
"Of course, pumpkin. Go get some rest." She bids you and Mary goodnight and heads to her bedroom, Betsy trailing behind her groggily. You take Amanda's spot on the sofa and start sipping your coffee, deep in thought. 

It takes a while for either of you to speak. With your mind racing, curiosity and fatigue get the better of you, and you let the last of your filter slip.  
"How did he have all of those pills?" Mary doesn't say anything for a while, her mouth pursed in thought.  
"Sometimes he gets random pains and asks the doctor for painkillers." She pauses again. "That's.... all I can really think of." The thought of him ingesting possibly expired medicine, as well as the fact that he obviously didn't use the recommended amount of what was given to him, made your stomach do flips. Another thought crosses your mind, and you blurt it out before you can stop yourself.  
"Why was he so skinny?"  
This time Mary doesn't take time to think, instead putting her mug down and looking away, almost as if she’s ashamed. "Well, that one’s easy enough to guess, buddy. We've all been there." You give her a quizzical look, and she eyes you up and down before a facial expression you can't quite place dawns over her face. "Well.... maybe not you." Your face must show your confusion, as she sighs and rubs her face tiredly.  
"It's not an accident that he forgets to eat, if you know what I mean."  
Another wave of shock courses through your body, and you nod slowly. You know you should stop with your questioning, but you press onwards, craving more information, however horrible it may be.  
"How, uh... why were you at his house?" This time she fixes you with a stone cold gaze. It feels more like she's looking through you than at you, but you still feel pinned in place.  
"I got fed up. I guess you could say I had a bad feeling. Intuition, gut, soul bonds, whatever you wanna fucking call it. I just got a real bad feeling tonight, and I followed it." She chuckles heartlessly, sending shivers down your spine, "When I got to his house I started banging furiously on the door. I was screaming about how he can't keep doing this, how he needs help, how his house is a fucking mess and being alone just makes… his sickness worse.  
“When he finally opened the door, I could tell something was wrong, you know? Just by looking at him. He had the last empty pill bottle in his hand, and he just says..." she sniffs, tears starting to well back up in her eyes, and her voice warbles and cracks wetly when she speaks again, "he just says, 'Good thing I'm leaving soon then, huh?' And then he laughed. He laughed like he was meeting the devil for the first time. Like he had nothing to lose, but nothing to win either."  
Mary starts to hiccup and you feel your chest tighten. You get up and walk tentatively towards her, and she scrambles out of her own seat and meets you halfway, grasping your hands with an iron grip. She’s not looking at you, her eyes wide and far away in the memory.  
"I ask him, I ask Robert, 'What the hell did you fucking do?' And I'm so scared for him and of what he could or couldn't have done, and I'm staring at that pill bottle, and it's label says ‘one pill per day, take as directed’, and it's completely empty, and he has the most serene smile on his face. It was so disgusting, and scary, and he says, he says to me,"  
she's rambling now, her words getting faster and faster and her syllables slurring together,  
"'I'm not gonna be a burden anymore,' and, and,"  
You wrap your arms around Mary tightly and she sobs, hugging you back twice as tight. She shakes and then stills suddenly. When she speaks again, her voice is even and furious. "I made him throw it back up, and it looked so natural when he stuck those fucked up fingers of his down his throat, as if he was a fucking natural. That's when I texted you." You pull away from her and lead her back to the sofa, sitting down next to her and not saying anything. What can you even say to that?  
She leans against your side. She whispers without looking up at you, but you hear her words clear as day, repeating your sentiment from earlier.  
"What are we gonna do? What are we going to fucking do?" 

\----

It takes hours for Val to arrive with Robert, and it's daytime by the time they do, but you and Mary stay up the entire time waiting for them. When you hear the sound of her car pulling up, you both scramble off the sofa and run out onto the lawn, still barefoot. Mary practically jumps onto Robert as soon as his car door opens, and you're not far behind, pinning him between the two of you in a crushing hug. He doesn't attempt to hug either of you back, but he doesn't push you away, and you accept that for now that's the best you're going to get. You feel a third set of arms join you and look over briefly to see Val hugging him as well. Her eyes look red and puffy.  
You and Mary are the first to pull away, and after a beat or two Robert hesitantly lifts his arms up to hold his daughter. When she pulls away, she looks him in the eye. "Call me later, okay dad?" Robert nods numbly. She looks at Mary, then at you. You feel the need to avert your gaze but you power through it, locking eyes with her. She nods to you once before getting back into her car and driving away, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. Whatever hostility she harbored for you previously seemed to have disintegrated.  
Mary takes Robert’s hand and leads him back into the house, and you follow close behind them, shutting and locking the door once you’re all inside. The three of you sit on the couch, you and Mary flanking Robert on either side and laying your heads against him. None of you say anything, though you feel like you should, but you hold your tongue and just lean further into the man beside you, trying to soak in his presence as much as you can. You all eventually drift off to sleep.  
In the morning (or, as Amanda corrects you, late afternoon), you're the first to awake, and when you do you find a blanket draped over the three of you, and the smell of eggs wafting in from the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if this chapter seems a little short guys!! hopefully the rest of the chapters will be longer and meatier  
> also im sorry for all the grammar mistakes i am a dingus and im not using a spellchecker or grammar checker at all ;_; also thank you so so much for the support, comments and kudos you guys im so happy to see youre all enjoying it so far


	5. Chapter 4.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> remember how i said only cotton candy seemed to be coming out this is the cotton candy, have fun with the cavities everyone   
> (also i do know frappucinos are limited to starbucks but listen, this is my canon and in my canon mat can call them frappucinos)

It's been three days since Robert moved in with you, and things seem to finally be settling in nicely. He had been oddly shy at first, trying to take up as little space as possible and not speaking much to neither you nor Amanda. Amanda, however, your perfect and highly social daughter, broke the silence on the first night after plopping down next to him on the sofa, proceeding to go through every single photo album she could find. (Somehow, a lot of them ended up being pictures of you. You didn't really mind though, it made Robert smile.) By the end of the night he and Amanda were holding a steady and animated conversation about horses.

Mary had been able to come over the first two days, but today she said she had some business to attend to at the church. When you had told Robert, he had given you a knowing grin. "Hope it's not to kill another young, handsome man." You grinned back at him.

"Another?" Roberts laugh lights up the room, and a small, selfish part of you wishes you could stay like this forever. 

It's currently 5 p.m. and Robert is taking a nap on the couch, which has now turned into his full-time bed. You crouch down next to him and gently place your hand on his shoulder, trying to wake him. He jolts up with a yell and almost falls off of the sofa, a habit of his you're still trying to get used to. After looking around wildly, he sees you and calms down. "Is... everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah everything's fine, it's just..." you feel like a schoolboy again, trying to ask your crush to have lunch with you. "Do you... wanna come with me to get coffee? I've been craving one of Mat's lattes, and we don't really have a latte machine here." Robert looks up at you skeptically.

"Why... would I go with you to get a coffee?" You resist the urge to drag your hands down your face.

You love Robert so much and he is so, so difficult sometimes.

"Get up Bobert, we're going."

He grumbles something about not calling him that, but he complies. You're both out the door and heading to Mat’s coffee shop before the minute is up.

As you're walking, you sneak glances at him. He squints as the sun hits him, quickly putting on his glasses and obscuring the upper half of his face. He had refused to change his clothes or shower after arriving at your house, and he was still wearing his long red shirt, and his jeans. He had at least had the decency to take his jacket off, which had been a relief, as the temperature had hiked up into the high 80s. His long shirt still worried you. You think you might see him shaking slightly, but you pass it off as paranoia on your part.

As you enter The Coffee Spoon, Mat spots the two of you, his face lighting up.

"Hey, neighbors!" He slides out from behind the counter, coming up to you first and going in for one of those hugs where you grab each other's hands first (luckily Amanda had taught you how to do it before Mat had initiated it for the first time). The hug goes smoothly, and he turns to Robert and claps his hand on his shoulder. "Ugh, it's been too long! When was the last time I saw you two, huh?" Robert is starting to look nervous, but luckily Mat doesn’t seem to notice. You jump in to fill in for Robert’s silence.

`"Too long, man, way too long. We really should hang out soon. If I can ever stop watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers and get off the couch for once, that is."

Mat laughs, and you see Robert relax a little as he heads back around behind the counter.

"Well, open mic night is in a couple days, you guys should come! Pablo is gonna be playing, we got a newly formed high school band comin’ in, they're real nice kids, kind of remind me of myself when I was their age. They could probably dial it back on the anti-establishment schtick but hey, I guess if it's working for them, I won't stop them…” he trails off, “Sorry, I'm doing that thing again." You smile and shake your head, but to your surprise Robert is the one to speak up.

"Don't worry about it Mat, it's nice to hear you talk about your interests." You glance over at Robert in surprise. He has a soft, warm smile on his face, exuding reassurance and comfort. You feel your knees buckle ever so slightly.

"Hey, thanks Robert. You might be my nicest customer, aside from you, of course.” He gestures to you. You blush. “Anyway, enough talk about me, you fellas came in here for drinks I'm assuming. What'll it be?"

You scan the menu, rethinking your latte idea from earlier due to the heat. A new drink on the menu stands out to you, and you have a vivid memory of Amanda one hot afternoon begging you to buy her something with a similar name.

"What exactly... is a frappucino?" You have distant memories of seeing the word, but never quite understanding it.

"Oh! It's like a coffee milkshake? It's really good." Your mouth waters at the idea of icy coffee bits.

"Well have two of those, uhhhh.... medium." As you rummage around in your wallet you side-eye Robert. He is gazing longingly at the banana bread. "Oh Mat, and two slices of your amazing banana bread."

"Wait, what?" Robert asks, but you just smirk as you hand Mat your money. You look pointedly at him and raise one eyebrow in a very dadly way.

Mat looks at Robert, then at you, and he mirrors your smirk. He has caught onto your plan.

"I'll have those right out for you guys." He gives you a wink and saunters off.

Robert glares at you. "I don't need any food." You roll your eyes at him and make your way to the nearest booth.

"Don't you know there's always room in your tummy for Mat's banana bread?"

Robert takes a seat across from you and runs his fingers through his hair. He quickly pulls them away, however, and glares at them in disgust.

"Ugh, yuckers.Greasy."

"How about that shower I keep pestering you about?" He gives you a grimace that reminds you all too much of Amanda when you would ask her the same thing.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'll get around to it eventually."

"Do I need to go in and shower with you to get you clean, Mr. Small?" You realize, a little too late, how blatantly sexual that sounds, but you do decide to roll with it. Leaning forward onto the table and resting your chin on your hands, you give him your best seductive look. He blushes, but, not one to back down from a challenge, he leans in as well.

Wow, his face is close to your face. You suddenly can only think about the way the inside of his irises look like a beautiful brown galaxy.

He grins at you. "The day I let you shower with me is the day I let the Dover Ghost fuck my ass."

You start laughing, and then he's laughing too, and his laugh is so nice, and his teeth are so pretty, and you want to kiss him so badly, and now Mat is here with your food and your drinks and you can't think about kissing Robert right now, because that heavenly banana bread is calling your name.

As you take a bite of your slice, you forcefully slide Robert’s slice over to him. Mat slides into the booth, taking a seat next to you. You scoot over enough to give him some room, appreciating his company and that he's willing to leave his station to talk to you.

"So Robert, how's Val? I don't think I've seen her since Amanda's graduation party!" Roberts face relaxes at the mention of his daughter, and he starts toying with his bread, not yet picking it up.

"She's doing good. Still up here, says she can work from her rented apartment for a bit before going back down. It's..." he looks over to you, "it's been getting better." Mat smiles gently towards him.

"That's really great to hear. She's a great young woman. I think she gets her sense of humor from her dad, though." You and Mat laugh at that, and Robert chuckles along with you.

"Hey, my sense of humor is pretty great."

"Who said it wasn't? You could do stand up at open mic."

"We’ll have the cops called on me faster than you can say frappucino, Mat." You suddenly remember the drink you ordered.

"Oh yeah! We got some of those." Robert rolls his eyes at you, but not unkindly. You grab your drink and take a sip.

Holy shit it tastes amazing.

"Mat holy shit this tastes amazing." Mat and Robert laugh at your words, and you hide your grin behind your cup sheepishly. You feel yourself relax a little when Robert picks up his and takes a couple sips as well.

"What about Amanda?" Mat turns to you, "how's she doing? Has school started yet?" You shake your head.

"It hasn't yet, thank god. She's super excited though, which honestly just makes me more nervous." Mat shakes his head.

"You? Nervous? I thought you were the coolest dad on the block." You put on a comically serious face and stare into your sugary café concoction.

"There comes a time when we all get nervous. Nobody is safe... not even.... the cool dads...." Robert giggles and you're reminded for the hundredth time today just how extremely gay you are. Especially for Robert.

You notice that he still hasn't touched his bread, and you raise your eyebrow once again at him. He raises his eyebrow right back at you. That bastard, using your own move against you.

Mat seems to notice your eyebrow raising competition and chuckles. "Well, I better get back to work, you two. Come by any time, 'kay babes?" He grimaces. "Sorry, I thought that taking the ee sound off the end would make it work." You shoot a finger gun towards him and wink.

"Don't even sweat it, babe." Both Mat and Robert blush, with Mat throwing his hands up in the air.

"See? You got a gift, I tell ya." With a laugh and a wave he walks back towards the counter.

"He's right, you know." You turn back towards Robert.

"About what?" He's staring at you with an expression you can't quit read.

"... Nothin'. Forget it." You looks back down to play with his bread, which, although much more crumbly, still hasn't been eaten. You point to it.

"Have you eaten any of that yet, or are you just playing with it?"

He smacks your hand away and grumbles. "You're not my dad, fuck off." You tear off a bite sized piece of his bread and hold it up to him. If he glared any harder you think daggers would actually literally begin shooting out of his eyes and into your skull.

"C'monnnnn it's so goooood." You wiggle the piece, trying to tempt him.

His defensiveness softens into something mischievous, and you are suddenly on high alert. You know that look.

Slowly, he leans in and eats the piece of bread straight from your fingers. He's somehow able to lick them without getting any slobber or crumbs anywhere, and you would be extremely impressed if you weren't so focused on the fact that he just did any of that.

You stare at your fingers.

You stare at Robert, who is smiling smugly around a mouthful of banana bread.

You bring your fingers up to your own mouth and lick them, and Robert almost chokes on the piece of bread you just fed him.

"Oh my god, you're unbelievable." You point at him accusingly. "Hey, you started it."

You somehow manage to get Robert to finish both his banana bread as well as his frappucino, and for a while you completely forget about the night of his trip to the hospital. He showers once the two of you get back to the house, and seeing him look a little cleaner helps clear up the anxiety you hadn't realized was mounting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok listen if you are confused ab why dadsona doesnt know what a frappucino is... a confession, i myself didnt know what it was until a couple months ago u_u'' also please do not worry angst is coming back next chapter consider this a breather i guess and foreshadowing ?? mmmaybe


	6. Chapter 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE mind the tags for this chapter if you're uncomfy with self-harm stuff i... suggest you skip this one   
> also idk the reg temps for their location but if global warming is fucking up my own seaside hometown then it sure as hell is fucking up theirs too

On the fifth day of having Robert in your home, it reaches almost 95 degrees outside. Amanda had already left in minimal clothing to go hang out with Daisy, who, to quote your daughter, "had slightly better air conditioning" (of course Brian had better air conditioning, but you were starting to accept that Brian was just going to better at you at some things and that that's okay). You yourself are in only your boxers, trying to find as many fans as you can and setting them up around the house for maximum coolness. You have, for some reason, not seen Robert yet for the half hour you’ve been up, but as you’re setting up the last fan, he trudges out of the bathroom.

He's still wearing his long, red shirt, and something inside you snaps.

"Robert, that shirt needs to come off of your body." Despite using your dad voice, he ignores you completely, instead trying to make his way back to the couch that he had utilized as a bed for the past five days.

"Ha ha, real funny jerk, I told you I'm not ready for that kinda stuff yet." His words are joking, but his eyes are darting around like a cornered animal’s. His face is flushed and his shirt is sticking to him. It looks extremely unpleasant.

"I'm serious, if you keep that thing on you could get sick."

He shakes his head as he sits down.

"I don't get sick."

You stare at him until he relents. "Okay, maybe I do get sick sometimes. But not from shit like this. I'll be fine." You sit next to him, turning one of the fans stationed closer to the couch towards you. You try to soften your voice, hoping that he realizes that you’re just worried about him.

"Why don't you just take it off?" He doesn't respond, nervously picking at the fabric of his shirt so that it peels off of his skin. If it wasn't so hot and you weren’t so sweaty, you would hold his hand. "Robert... whatever is under there, I'll understand."

Robert snaps at you, recoiling as if you had reached out for him. "No, you wouldn't." He takes a deep breath and rubs his temples, trying to calm himself down before speaking again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap... It’s just." He lets the sentence trail off. You lean in, lowering your voice.

"It's just what?" He doesn't respond. "Robert, I can't have you going back to the hospital just because of how stubborn you are. I can't have you..." you stop yourself. You were going to say, “I can’t have you dying”, but you are not prepared to make yourself cry right now.

"Just take off the damn shirt. Please?" He finally looks at you. You are terrified, both for him and of whatever it is he’s so afraid of, but you lock eyes with him, pushing the fear down. As you look into his eyes, you see his face soften and his jaw unclench.

"You owe me a beer for this." He grabs the hem of his shirt and slowly starts to peel it off. As he lifts it, his stomach peeks out, then his chest. Despite his malnourishment, you can still see a defined six-pack and firm pectoral muscles. Between the two, you see his ribs standing out. You could count each one if you wanted to. As he leans forward to get the neck of the shirt over his head, his spine sticks out grotesquely and his back muscles dance under his skin. It's bizarre seeing a body so beautiful be paired with a situation so upsetting.

Robert pauses after getting the whole shirt over his head, staring at his still covered arms. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes glued to the same spot his are, nervous of what could be under them. He lets out a sigh and continues to peel the sleeves off, his face wincing in pain. Your attention is caught by his biceps, and for a second you are distracted.

But then the sleeves peel off to reveal his forearms.

His arms. Dear god, his arms.

You're glad that you were never too squeamish around blood and gore, because his arms are a minefield of exactly that.

He's holding his shirt, which you now notice has stains on the inside that blend in with the color, in his scarred hands. He's staring at the fabric, squeezing it together, strangling it.

"There, you got what you wanted. I hope you're happy."

You know you should be looking at his arms, or away from him, but you find yourself focusing on his face. You cannot stand how sad and scared he looks. A panicked thought crosses your mind.

Who hurt him enough to make him terrified of taking his fucking shirt off?

"Hold on. Wait right here." You stand up and head quickly towards the bathroom, trying to ignore Robert’s confused calls from the couch. You grab a small towel and wet it with water as cold as you can get, bringing it back out to the living room.

Robert quizzically eyes you and the towelette as you sit back down.

"This will help with the heat." You start patting his neck down with the towel, and he shivers.

"God damn, that's cold."

"But it feels good, right?"

".... Yeah."

You continue to smooth the towel over his skin, working your way from the neck, to his back, to his chest, to his stomach, to his upper arms. You avoid his forearms, afraid of scratching the cuts and reopening them. Once you're done, you lay the towel over his head.

"There, now you've got a hat."

He snickers at that. "God, you're such a goofball." You gently rub the towel into his hair, cooling his scalp off, and he closes his eyes, a small, contented smile spreading across his face. You let the towel rest back on top of his head, and he reaches up to grab it. The smile falls from his face as he starts running it gently over his forearms, gritting his teeth once and awhile when it touches a scab. As you look at the marks, you realize that many of them are yellow and wet, with crusty, inflamed edges.

"... They look infected." His face looks void of emotion as he keeps wiping his arms, but his motions get a little harsher.

"Good."

"Robert!!" You snatch the towel away and glare at him disapprovingly. He shrugs.

"What?"

"I just- you just- I cannot believe you." You examine the towel in your hands, now with yellow and pink spots dotting it.

"I'll be right back. Don't move, okay?" He doesn't respond as you stand up. Before heading back into the bathroom, you quickly lean in and kiss the side of his head. You hear him mumble an "okay".

Rinsing the towel off and setting it aside, you pull out the first aid kit and rummage through it. After getting what you need, you carry everything back out to Robert.

"What's all this?" He knows what it is, so you don't respond, instead getting to work. There are a few cuts that are a bit too wide and deep for your comfort (all of them are, for the record, but these ones especially), that you pinch closed and tape together with special strips you found, marketed as working kind of like stitches. You remember Amanda using them on you one time after a particularly nasty kitchen accident.

Robert scoffs at you for, you assume, being so extra about it, but you're honestly relieved that you had the stuff. You dab neosporin onto the cuts that seem more infected, and after you are close to satisfied, you set about to wrapping his arms with bandages. The entire time, you're stressed about either wrapping them too tightly or too loosely, but once you're finished they turn out just about perfect. Out of habit, you lift one of his arms and kiss it. He gives you a look, and you shrug.

"A kiss makes it better. Manda told me so." Robert smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back at him. His face looks so, so sad. You wish you could kiss that to make it better as well. You're suddenly being pulled in for a very strong hug, and you feel your heart flutter at the contact. Unlike his calloused hands, his skin is soft.

"Thank you." You can hear the tears he’s trying to hold back, and you hug him back tightly. He takes a deep breath, which you think might be to calm himself down before he ends up crying. "I'm sorry."

You nuzzle your nose into his hair, savoring the moment despite the circumstances. "Don't be. Thank you for showing me and letting me help. It… really does mean a lot, you know." You both reluctantly pull away, your skin sticking together for a second in protest. "Now how about that beer, babe?"

His flustered expression answers your question for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so so much again for the comments and kudos and bookmarks everybody i just, i cannot even explain how happy it makes me when i get a comment notification?? you're all so great thank you for reading my sappy sappy fix-it fic


	7. Chapter 6.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh what you thought i would make a fic that DIDNT have an unnecessarily graphic brawl?? think again  
> please be wary of tags for this chapter specifically slurs and violence

Night 6, and you and Robert decide to go for a walk. This isn't the first time the two of you had gone for walks since his stay; You hold the firm belief that getting out and exercising was good for him (you blame Craig), but up until now you had either brought along Amanda or Mary and often had a destination in mind. This time, however, it’s just the two of you. You head out at dusk as the heat of the day is dissipating and the sky is a warm purple.

The two of you wander, occasionally talking, but just enjoying each other's company and your surroundings as they are. It is incredibly peaceful, with the clear night sky stretched out over head as far as the eye can see, and around you the warm, salty air caressing your face and ruffles your hair. You sneak glances at Robert once in a while, admiring his handsome features. He's wearing his jacket, but instead of his usual long red shirt (which you had confiscated after the incident and is in the process of being washed), he is wearing one of your t-shirts. You had tried to find the softest and lightest one you owned for him, deciding on an old, plain white tee. It had a few holes near the hem, but Robert didn't seem to mind when you had handed it to him, pulling it over his head and smoothing it out appreciatively. When you had turned your back, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of him smelling it with a small smile.

Now that the sun was setting and casting a soft glow over the town of Maple Bay, you can truly appreciate how good white looks on him. You had always thought white made your blemishes stick out, but on Robert, it highlights the healthy glow he had been building up, and makes the color of his eyes and mouth pop vividly.

You remind yourself to tell him to wear white more often.

As the two of you round a corner, you come upon a group of men, probably in their 30’s. As you and Robert halt, they spot you and turn their attention towards the two of you. They look familiar somehow, and as you stare at them in the dying light, it dawns on you. Disgust immediately overtakes you.

"Ugh, not these guys again."

On one of the many nights you and Mary had been out drinking, the two of you had been interrupted by the same group of men at Jim and Kim's. At first, they had only tried to flirt badly with Mary. When she had surprisingly declined their advances, they had gone to calling you and her pretty... elementary names and slurs. It was hard to not laugh at how stupid some of their insults were. Eventually, you and Mary got tired of their shit, and the two of you had called Neil over, who broke it up a lot more rapidly than you had assumed he would.

Once you had left the bar and started heading home, however, they had followed the two of you, calling out more slurs and threats, ones much more violent than the ones they threw at you at the bar. You had been worried, and maybe a little scared for your safety, until Mary had casually pulled out a knife and , ever so sweetly, threatened to slowly gut each and every one of them if they didn't leave the two of you alone.

They seemed to disappear right out of thin air, tails between their legs, leaving Mary with a smug look on her face and you with a newfound respect and admiration for your wonderful neighbor and lady friend.

This time, Mary was not here to rescue you, and you feel the urge to push Robert back in the direction you had come and pretend that you didn’t see anything. Before you can, you hear one of them call out.

"Hey, I know you!” It feels like your skin frosts over, “You're the pussy who was with that knife wielding bitch! Where's your girlfriend, asshole?" You feel Robert tense up and try to bolt forward, but you hold your arm out to stop him.

"What the fuck did you just say to my friend, prick?"

"Robert, drop it, they're just some douchebags from the bar. We should go."

Another one of the men pipe up as they slink towards the two of you. "Oh, you're not going anywhere, pussy boy! I intend to follow through with what I said I'd do to you. C'mon, let your boyfriend at me, he looks like a fun appetizer." They all have a malicious glint in their eyes, and you feel your skin go even colder as you recall the threats they had thrown at you. The best ones were unpleasant, and the worst ones… you would rather not think about it. Robert bristles.

"I swear if you lay a finger on him I'm gonna"

"You're gonna what? Cry? Is the little faggot gonna cry?" They all laugh, and you can almost physically feel Robert's blood boiling. You have to grab fistfuls of his jacket to stop him, now, and he's gritting his teeth. You try to pull on him away, but he doesn't budge.

"Robert, we need to get out of here." One of the gang members seems to notice something on Robert, and his eyes go wide.

"What’s that under your sleeves?" You and Robert both still and look down at his arms. His sleeves had been pushed up enough to let the bandages on his arms peek out. A cold, slimy feeling works its way up your throat. You hear the group laugh, and you look up to see their grins widening. They knew they had locked onto a sensitive topic, and they were not going to drop it anytime soon.

"What, you cut yourself? Fucking pathetic." You feel anger start to override your panic, and let go of Robert. He's not saying anything, his face falling into a guarded neutral. You turn to face them fully.

"Knock it off."

"Or what, you gonna hide behind the bitch again? Your boyfriend here some kinda suicidal freak?" Now it's Robert who's trying to hold you back, but you barely notice his grip on the back of your shirt, or the whispered pleading of your name. The man who just spoke smirks. "Ooooh, hit a spot. Personally, I think he should go just kill himself already, I mean look at him"

You're out of Robert's grasp and on the mouthy jackass before you realize what you're doing. You hear a few yelps, but you aren't sure who they're from. As you tackle him, he his the ground with a thud, letting out a pained groan as the air is knocked out of him. You pull your fist back and let it connect with his nose, which emits a satisfying crunch, and he emits a warbled scream.

He reaches up to scratch your face while his other hand scratches your arm, making your face light up with heat where he drags his fingers down. You can feel his legs kicking wildly behind you, but luckily it only manages to deter his friends from approaching. He's grabbing your hair now and tugging at it, which makes your eyes tear up, but you’re able to get his hand off after slamming his head into the ground again.

He gets a few hits to your face while you’re still reeling from the scratches, but you quickly overpower him again, knocking his hand back and hearing his arm crack against the cement. You grab his neck and hold him down, punching him two more times before you feel strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you up and away. You get a few kicks to his ribs before he's out of reach, seeing red as one of his buddies hurriedly helps him up.

You feel Robert pull something out of his coat while he’s still holding onto you, and you glance down to see he's brandishing his knife. Other the guy you attacked, the rest of the group get the same scared look on their faces as they did when Mary pulled the same move on them. The one you attacked is staring at you with fire in his eyes, his nose crooked and starting to bleed. You can’t help but grin at him, knowing that you came out on top in the end.

"What the fuck, man, what are you on?!" You think you feel something dribble down your cheek, but are too distracted to check what it is. Robert motions towards them with the knife.

"You all better fucking scram before the real show begins, fuckers.” They all back away, slowly at first and eyeing each other, then turning and sprinting.

The one you attacked, who is now holding his side in pain, turns back to you and points. "This isn't over!"

As he runs, you spit in his direction. You notice your mouth tastes metallic. "Bitches better not fuck with me."

You turn to look at Robert, an adrenaline high suddenly rushing through you, and you grin again. "I haven't done anything like that since Amanda was born.” Robert gives you a worried look as he gently takes your face into his hands, examining it. You're shaking with excitement from the fight, nerves still on edge and loaded like a spring.

"He got you pretty bad."

"What do you mean pretty bad, did you see him? Dude looked fucked up. I think I really got his ribs good. Wish you hadn't pulled me off, though." Robert pats your less injured cheek.

"Easy there, tiger, easy."

You can't stop grinning.

"I feel so alive. That felt so fucking good." Robert cracks a soft smile.

"Okay, you got me, that was pretty badass. But please never ever scare me like that again."

You roll your eyes. "You say that, but you were just as ready to get at them as I was." He shrugs, then looks away, smile fading.

"...Thanks. Thank you, I mean. For doing that for me."

You reach up and squeeze his hands. "Anytime, Robert. Defending honor, right?" He looks back at you and smiles, but it's melancholic and tired.

You wonder how many times something like this has happened where he didn't have someone to fight for him.

You suddenly realize that Mary needs to hear about this right now immediately.

"Robert we’re having drinks tonight with Mary, she needs to know how cool I am now." Robert rolls his eyes and rubs his temples in exasperation, but let's you excitedly call her and drag the two of them to Jim and Kim's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY IM SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE LIFE HAPPENED, we're nearing the end of this fic we only have a couple more chapters to gooooo, please consider this as my self indulgent chapter because im a sucker for a good ol fight scene (as you may know if youve read any of my other fics) thank you again so so so much for reading, commenting, kudos, bookmarking, all of it is so appreciated guys you're all great


	8. Chapter 7.

It’s the evening of the eighth day, and the smell of cupcakes lights up the house. You sit at the counter while Amanda, Mary and Robert bustle about in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches onto the pastries. As it was, you were vetoed from being allowed in the kitchen, so now your job was to reach for cupcakes and frosting when you thought no one was looking. As you reach sneakily for your third taste of icing, Mary’s hand comes swooping down, smacking yours and leaving and angry red mark. You let out a pained whine as you hold your hand to your chest.

“Maryyy… You can’t do that…”

“Dad, they aren’t done yet! Stay out of the kitchen!” You pull your hand away from your chest to point it at her accusingly.

“You’re already eating one!” Your daughter takes another smug bite from her delicacy while Mary folds her arms and glares you down.

“That’s ‘cuz she helped make them, unlike you.” You stick your tongue out at her, and she responds by flipping you off.

She taps the cake part of one a few times, then nods. “Okay, I think now they’re-” Before she finishes, you already have an entire cupcake stuffed into your mouth. Amanda giggles, and Robert smiles as he takes one for himself. Mary groans.

“Please don’t fucking choke.”

After you all stuff yourselves with as many cupcakes as you can manage, Amanda and Robert wander out into the living room to watch TV while you and Mary clean up the kitchen. The two of you joke for a while, trading witty banter, but after a while she sneaks a look into the living room, letting her face fall. She leans in close to you, dropping her voice down to a whisper, and you stop scrubbing the dishes, worried.

“Has he been like this all day?”

“Robert?”

She nods, exasperated, and you glance out into the living room as well. He’s sitting on the sofa next to Amanda, nodding absent-mindedly as Amanda reacts to whatever’s on screen. You look back at Mary. “Like what?”

“He’s…” She sighs, “You know what? I’m not gonna let it worry me. I’m probably just being paranoid, and he’s safe as long as he stays in the house with the two of you. If you haven’t noticed anything, I’m sure he’s....” You want to let her words comfort you, but instead you feel like sirens are suddenly blaring in your skull. You wipe off your hands and grab her shoulders, looking her in the eyes.

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ll try to pay extra attention tonight, okay?”

She nods, brow still furrowed. “Bitch, you better.”

You both watch as Betsy jumps onto the couch and wiggles her way in between the two of them. Robert doesn’t seem to notice.

Mary leaves shortly after that, giving all of you a warm hug that had become the norm, and Amanda had gone to bed a couple of hours later. You and Robert sit on the couch, watching TV, but you feel yourself starting to doze off. Looking at the clock, you realize that it is almost midnight. You get up from your spot next to Robert, groaning as you do. "I should be getting to bed."

"Yeah." Robert seems to be distracted, starting at the screen on the TV. You glance at it, curious as to why he’s looking at it so intently, but it's just a commercial, one you had both seen many times.

"Hey." Robert begrudgingly tears his eyes off of the screen and looks up at you, and you can't help but smile when you see his face. It feels a little bittersweet knowing that you probably won’t see it again until tomorrow. "Get some sleep soon, okay?"

"Y-yeah." You have the sudden urge to kiss him goodnight, or even just to cuddle up with him and let sleep take you on the couch by his side, but you force yourself to bottle that shit right back up and push it down as deep as it can go. You couldn’t be emotionally compromising him, especially when Mary seemed so worried about him earlier. He goes back to starting at the TV vacantly, and glancing back at him one final time, you make your way to the bathroom.

As you brush your teeth, you examine the few scars left on your face from the fist fight from two nights ago. Although healing up nicely, the three scratches on your cheek are still quite noticeable, and your black eye doesn't fit in too well with polite company. Luckily, the company you've been keeping lately is the furthest from polite you can get. Robert had called your look “scrappy”, which made you sound far more attractive than you saw yourself as.

When you had woken up the day after the fight and walked out into the kitchen, Amanda had looked like she was about to have a heart attack. She had immediately asked you who she needed to fight, but with the help of Robert you had explained to her that her dad had done something the night before that she should never ever do. Both she and Robert had given you a look so identical and condescending you almost took the sentiment back. Almost.

Robert had made you seem a lot more heroic and badass in the retelling than you actually were, but you didn't complain, too caught up in the way his eyes sparkled, and the way his hands gestured while pantomiming the events of the fight. Amanda now has it in her mind that you've secretly been a badass this whole time, and whenever you try to explain that you're not, Robert shushes you. A part of you thinks Robert might believe it, too.

You make your way to bed and lay down, hoping that sleep will take you quickly. Mary’s words keep running through your head, though, setting you on edge and riddling you with anxiety. You try to brush it off and let yourself sleep, but the worry won't leave you, and you find yourself lying awake in bed, tossing and turning. You cannot stop thinking about Robert, and the more you truly think about the events of the day, the more alarms go off in your head.

He had been zoning out more often than was usual for him, not making as many jokes and being unusually still. The entire time Amanda and Mary were making the cupcake batter, he had just sat on a stool next to you and stared at the bowl. At one point you had asked him if he was okay, and he hadn’t even said any real words, only grunting an affirmative, never taking his eyes off of the bowl. You had been drawn back into your conversation with Mary before you could take note of it, but now that you're alone with your thoughts, it's the only thing you can think about.

You glance over at the clock, frustrated that sleep hasn't taken you. It reads 2:05 a.m.

An after image of Robert's face staring at the TV with disinterest flashes in your mind, and with that you're out of bed. You make it halfway down the dark hallway before you bump into someone, letting out a startled curse before finding your composure. Allowing your to eyes adjust, you see who it is.

"Robert?" He looks embarrassed, shuffling a few steps back.

"Sorry, I was just, I couldn't sleep and thought maybe-"

"I couldn't sleep either, are you o-"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stops, chewing his bottom lip nervously, "Are... you... okay?" You regard him up and down, taken aback by how nervous and meek he suddenly looks. You don't know why, but it makes you feel guilty as well.

"Do you... wanna go crypti-"

"Yes."

"Let me go get some pants on."

The two of you are piling into Robert’s truck before five minutes are up. Neither of you talk, which is normal, but it isn't how it usually is. It feels stiff, as if Robert has the world on the tip of his tongue, ready to come spilling out, but is too scared to let it. His face still looks detached and void, staring out over the road without feeling.

Once you make it to the lookout point, you and Robert silently clamber out of the car and sit on his tailgate. He takes out his knife and a piece of wood and begins carving silently, but this time you don't join him, instead fully admiring the view of the moon over the water and the town below. Eventually, his face begins to relax, and he seems more interested in his carving than when he first pulled it out.

"Are you okay?" His face looks sad as he shakes the carving, letting scraps of wood fall to the ground.

"Yeah, I guess." You aren't very happy with his answer.

"...Do you wanna talk about it?" He shrugs and goes back to tending to the piece of wood. You decide to not push him any further, instead going back to enjoying the scenery and the fresh air. He speaks up again after a few minutes.

"Sometimes I just..." you look up at, waiting for him to continue patiently. His eyes are boring holes into the piece of wood in his hand.

"Sometimes I just get like this. It's a weird feeling that... I don't know if I can explain it correctly. Kind of like... I’m not real?" He looks up and out over the bay.

"Like your body isn't your body anymore. Like you're floating, or like you're the static on the TV, and when you look it the mirror it's all wrong. And once you sit down, you can't get up, because what's the point of getting up if you're not real. What’s the point of doing anything if you're not real?

"That's usually when it gets really bad, when I'm like this. I'll just lose days at a time, just floating through everything, disjointed from reality. And then when I come back, when I wake up, it's like. Well I've isolated myself this much, might as well go all the way. And then I just keep not talking to anyone, and not doing anything, and then I forget to eat, or shower, or feed Betsy, or sleep, or drink water. It’s a shitshow. And then I just go back to feeling numb." He turns to you, desperately searching your face for approval, for validation, for anything but scorn. "You know?"

You think for a second, trying to choose your words carefully.

"I... don't think I've ever felt that personally, but that sounds disorienting, and shitty as hell." Robert chuckles, and it relieves you to see a smile on his face again.

"You're not wrong." He holds up his carving slightly, inspecting it in the moonlight. "Sometimes doing stuff like carving will snap me out of it. It's kind of grounding, focusing on something that takes so much concentration." He sets it back down, looking away from you, and you want to take his hand in yours. You refrain. "Thank you for coming out here with me tonight. Today was... pretty bad. Feelings wise."

"Yeah, I get it. I think... I could tell something was up. I couldn't sleep because the way you were acting was kind of worrying me, if I'm being honest." You let yourself be a little selfish, and don’t mention Mary. You don’t know how he would feel about the two of you conspiring behind his back, no matter how helpful your intentions were.

Robert looks back at you again, a hint of what you think might be hopefulness crossing his face briefly.

"Well, you've got a good eye." He goes back to carving, and you assume that's the end of the conversation, but he speaks again not soon after.

"Val's been texting me more." You're taken aback by his openness, especially about his daughter, but it's a pleasant surprise, and you’re eager to push him on it.

"Yeah? That's really great, I'm glad she's staying in contact Robert."

"The first thing she said to me when I woke up in the hospital room is that if I had died, she would have killed you." You feel your stomach drop, and you nod, feeling queasy at the idea of a vengeful Val breaking into your house and slitting your throat while you slept. You would have deserved it.

"M-makes sense..." Robert looks at you with a devilish smirk.

"She wouldn't actually kill you, dumbass." He's smiling, and you slide him a coy look.

"Are we really sure, though? Like, for realsies?" Robert pretends to think for a second, tapping the tip of his knife against his chin.

"Now that you mention it, you do have that kind of face that's just begging to be murdered. I'd be lying if the thought hadn't crossed my mind a couple times." The saucy look he’s giving you provides the distinct feeling that he's using murder as euphemism for something else.

"Robert, she totally could've Inigo Montoya'd my ass."

You pretend to point a fake sword at Robert, your other hand held in the air, a stern look falling over your face. Robert grins, holding a hand up to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"My name is Val Small. You killed my father." Your Spanish accent is worse than terrible, and as you pause for dramatic effect, and you can tell Robert is close to losing it. "Prepare... to die."

Robert rolls backwards onto the bed of the truck, giggling loudly, and you accompany him with cackles of your own. The way his teeth glint in the moonlight remind you of a wild animal, but you feel no fear, only relief. He leans back up into a sitting position, sighing happily.

"You know I wouldn't let her kill you. My ghost would stop her before she could even try." You lean back on your arms, smiling to yourself at his words.

"You really care about me that much?" You mean for it to be joking, but the atmosphere between the two of you shifts.

"Yes." You look over and he's staring at you intensely, all kidding put aside. You roll his words over in your mind.

Robert cares about you.

He's still staring at you, and you're still staring at him.

Wow, his lips look soft. Your heart flutters in your chest, and you feel a soft summer breeze roll past, smelling like the sea and cedar and sun soaked cement and, if you focus, fairgrounds. You feel like Robert is leaning in, and you're itching to lean forward and just kiss him already. Both of your breathing is becoming quicker, and now you smell Robert too, sweeter than usual from the cupcakes. You wonder if he’ll taste like cupcakes still, too.

His phone buzzes, and he pulls away abruptly. Your heart sinks, but you push the feeling aside, focusing instead on what pulled him away. As he scans his screen, a smile breaks out over his face.

"Looks like Mary couldn't sleep either. The three of us must be on some sort of psychic connection or something, she says she's worried about me too."

"Sorry, I beat her to it this time." Your heart swells as you feel accomplishment for finally being the one to take initiative first, only feeling a little guilty about stealing the spotlight from her for once. Robert taps out a quick reply, slipping his phone back into his pocket and leaning back again to look out over the city.

The two of you talk for a while, about everything and nothing, often joking for no other reason than to make the other laugh. Eventually, you look out over the water and see the sky starting to light up. The tiniest hint of light is peeking out over the horizon.

"Holy shit, is that the sun?"

Robert looks at it for a minute or two, as stunned as you are. "I think it just might be." He looks back over at you. "You ever watch a sunrise?" You go through the catalog of your memories, trying to think of the last time you did.

"It's been years." He smiles warmly at you and scoots towards you until your shoulders are touching, sending a delighted shiver through you. You both watch as the sun slowly crests the horizon and dangles over the waves. After the sun had long past crested, Robert hops off of the car and stretches, lifting his shirt up enough to let a sliver of his stomach peek through.

"I am so fucking tired." Now that you think about it, you're exhausted too. Looking at Robert, however, you realize you're probably more lucid than him at this point.

"Want me to drive?"

"God, yes."

Somewhere along the way home, Robert dozes off, and once you park his car you gently shake him awake.

"Hey, we’re home." He looks around blearily and rubs his eyes, sitting up.

"Oh. Neat."

You both sleepily make your way inside your house, but as you're heading to your room, you feel Robert stop. You turn around to find him gazing sadly at the couch, rubbing his arm as if to comfort himself.

He looks too sad for this, and you're too tired for this, so you make an executive decision and grab his hand, dragging him behind you towards your bedroom. He doesn't protest, and as you shed your pants and flop onto the mattress, he does the same and crawls in after you. He lets out a satisfied, contented sigh, and you pull him in, letting your arm rest on top of his side comfortably. He absent-mindedly nuzzles his face into your neck and slides his hand over your waist, letting out another hum. You both pull each other closer, and soon enough you're both fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO originally this was a tiny bit shorter but feverpitchfiasco's comment on the last chapter (thank you so so much btw im sobbing you are so sweet thank you) made me realize that yes i do need to add in more mary because surprise surprise i love mary christiansen more than most things in life   
> you guys have been so so so amazing and kind and i just wanna warn yall that the next chapter will probably be the last of this installment, i have a blog on tumblr but its mostly only for art but if you really wanna contact me its also saccharinepeccadillo as well im so glad that you all seem to be enjoying this fic and if i get any more inspiration ill definitely add to it or make it a longer series this just started out as being a lil self indulgence that i didnt think many people would read but its gotten so much amazing feedback which is just so awesome thank you guys


	9. Chapter 8.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey this is the last chapter!! warning for suicide talk (also both robert and dadsona are alluded to being agnostic/questioning christian but its... really brief and not very in your face really but yeah religion talk kind of, and just talking about death in general)

Week 2 of Robert staying with you at your place, you and Mary decide to go begin cleaning house a bit. You leave Robert with Amanda, knowing that the two of them will be more than entertained with the TV and a bucket of ice cream between the two of them. They’ve plowed through five cartons in the past week, and a good chunk of your money has gone into junk food for them, but you’re honestly relieved that Robert is eating anything at all. Amanda was somehow, in her own unique way, the most positively impactful force on Robert’s health.  
Robert had been afraid of Amanda seeing his arms at first. Despite your best efforts to calm him down, he insisted that he had to hide them from her, and for a while he did, wearing long sleeves when she was home and only taking them off when she was gone or asleep. You had eventually gotten him to wear shorter sleeves around her, and she hadn’t said anything when she saw the bandages. Instead, she had silently come out with multiple pens of different colors, and had begun doodling on them, careful not to let her pen get close to where the injuries were. It became a ritual between the two of them to draw on every new set of bandages, sometimes writing out messages to each other, other times just inking in patterns and shapes. After they were done, Robert would always admire their handiwork, pointing out which designs he liked best.  
As you and Mary leave the house to clean Robert’s place, you take one last look at the two. Robert is tracing one of the patterns on his arm with a calloused finger.  
"You sure you guys are gonna be cool by yourselves? Please don't set anything on fire." Amanda sticks her tongue out at you.  
"Nah, no cooking today. I’m gonna teach Bobert here scrapbooking." Robert says nothing about the nickname, which you had noticed becoming another trend between the two.  
"Amanda, I know how to scrapbook."  
"You may know the idea of scrapbooking, sure, but you don't understand the art of scrapbooking."  
You chuckle at their banter and close the door, leaving them to their wicked ways. You just pray nothing valuable gets broken while you're gone.  
When the two of you reach Roberts front door, Mary places her hand on the handle, but pauses, suddenly unsure. She turns back towards you. "Ready?"  
You gulp. You are so not ready for this. "Ready Freddy."  
You have only been inside Roberts house twice. The first time was a make-out-turned-cry session. The second was the night you almost lost him. When the door opens and the inside of the house is revealed, your brain mixes the two memories and throws them back at you full force, and you suddenly feel like crying.  
Mary's hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it, and you see possibly the gentlest smile she has ever worn on her face.  
"We don't have to make it spotless. Just a little less cluttered." You nod your head, and the two of you get to work.  
It's only an hour later of picking up empty bottles and cigarette butts that Mary gets an unprompted call. After talking to the caller briefly and hanging up, she turns to you apologetically. "Sorry hun, it’s the shelter. Damien's out sick today. I'm gonna have to fill in for him. ...And also go check on him. You good by yourself?" You nod. Through the years you’ve found that once you get into the groove of cleaning, it's extremely hard for you to stop.  
"Yeah, I'm good. Say hi to him for me, okay?" She nods and rushes out quickly, leaving you with a still quite sizable mess, but a mess that is more friendly than the thoughts prodding at your brain. You keep cleaning.  
It's two hours of cleaning, scrubbing and vacuuming later that you find it. You spot the piece of paper sticking out of a drawer in the kitchen. Curious, you open the drawer and pull it out, and start reading it.  
Immediately, you wish I hadn't seen the piece of paper in the first place. The paper reads:

*To whoever the fuck takes the time to read this,

I guess this is a suicide note.*

Your breath hitches and you cover your mouth, but you keep reading.

*That's what people do, right? Leave notes so the police don't suspect murder or carbon monoxide poisoning or something? Who cares. I don't even know if this will ever be read, given that I've cut off all contact with anyone who's ever cared about me. Nobody wants me, anyway.  
To Val, my amazing and talented daughter, I'm sorry for not being a better dad. I’m sorry for being absent. You deserved so much better. I hope that this will end any suffering for you too, and you can go on to have a happy life.  
To Mary, don't give up hope. I'm sorry for leaving you like this, but I just couldn't take it anymore. I hope you understand. This is nobody's fault but my own. You're a tough bitch, don't be like me. Keep fighting. If there really is an afterlife, I hope I don't see your sorry ass for a long time.  
To- *

You see your name and you choke out a sob, falling to your knees. You wipe ferociously at your tears, trying to power through the note. 

*I'm sorry for not responding to any of your texts or calls, and for never becoming the better person I promised you. You deserve so much better than me. I love you, but by now I know that my love is toxic, and it hurts anyone it touches. I'm so, so sorry. For everything.  
To Joseph, fuck you. Burn in hell scumbag. Mary deserves better than you.  
To Marilyn, I love you so much. I wish you could have been there to see our daughter grow up. I wish it had been me instead of you. I hope that I see you soon, and that if I don't, that you're happy.  
To anyone else reading this, you can kindly fuck off. I just don't care enough anymore for anyone else, really. It’s not personal.  
I’m hoping that the pills work, but if they don’t I’m sure I’ll make do with something else.  
Oh, and please take care of Betsy. She likes playing fetch with a frisbee and is fine around cats and other dogs. Make sure she doesn’t go to Joseph, I know that bastard wanted her the moment he laid eyes on her.

Robert Small *

You read through the note again and again, getting the feeling like you're drowning. Your lungs are on fire, and you can barely see through your tears, but all you can do is read the words on the page. You want to scream, but, knowing that neighbors might hear you, you only let out short, pained sobs.  
For a couple minutes, you completely forget that Robert is alive and at your house.  
For a few horrible, terrible, nightmare inducing minutes, you're in a world where the man known as Robert Small is gone. You only know grief.  
Once you're able to stop crying, it's the half full bag of trash that pulls you back to reality. Crumpling the piece of paper up angrily in your hand, you hurry back over to your house, trying to scrub your face off so that no one see’s your tear stained cheeks. You don't say anything as you open your front door, instead following the sound of voices towards Amanda's room.  
"....well Bob-eroni, I like your theme of knives you've got going, but I don't know if our magazines have anymore pictures of…” She looks up from her spot on the floor, eyes going wide when she see’s your distraught state. “Dad? Are you okay?!"  
You're standing in the doorway, holding the ball of paper in one hand and leaning against the doorframe for support with the other. The sight of Robert both relieves you, and terrifies the shit out of you. Both of them have collages spread out in front of them, glue sticks in hand with confusion and worry painted across their faces. You feel the tears begin again. You're able to croak out a single, strained "Robert", scrubbing at your face again, vainly attempting to stop the tears and clenching your jaw.  
He's up and hugging you in an instant, rubbing your back soothingly and asking you what's wrong. You can’t answer, only pulling him in and holding onto him tightly. Moments later you feel Amanda latch onto you as well, Robert making just enough room for her to get her arms around you. You look up at him and hold his cheek, afraid that he'll disintegrate in your hands and drift away like smoke any second. His eyes search yours, and you can feel him starting to shake with panic.  
"What happened? Did someone hurt you? Where's Mary?" Slowly, you lift the piece of paper up.  
"I... I found this while I was cleaning."  
It takes him a few seconds to realize what it is, but once he does, he snatches it out of your hands and aggressively shoves it into his pocket with an animosity you aren't sure you've ever seen from him. He gently pulls you back into a hug, and you bury your head into his shoulder and let out a strangled sob. You feel Amanda squeeze you tighter, and Robert runs his fingers through your hair soothingly.  
"That's… It’s in the past now, it's okay, it didn't happen. I'm okay now, I'm okay now, it's okay..." he keeps murmuring reassurances into your ear and running his finger through your hair, and slowly, very slowly, you start to calm down. You barely notice Amanda moving so she can hug both of you, one arm around each of you, nor do you really notice the wetness Roberts voice acquires. You do manage to notice that Robert smells like wood, and cigarettes, and something else that you can't quite place that smells like danger and adventure and comfort and home all at once. 

It takes a while for all of you to calm down, but you all eventually move to the couch and turn on the TV, Robert and Amanda flanking you on either side like body guards. A large, fluffy blanket splayed out over the three of you, and Betsy wiggles her way up into your lap, splaying out so that she can touch all three of you. Both of them lean against you, and halfway through your third episode of what you think is Baby Chefs, Robert slips his hand into your own, interlocking your fingers together.  
Once Amanda goes to bed, you and Robert head into your backyard and ceremoniously burn the letter, letting the ashes float away on the cool summer night breeze. You hold Robert’s hand again and stare up at the stars, lost in thought. When you turn to look at him, he's gazing at you, and it's like looking at the sky all over again with how captivating his beauty is. For a moment you get lost in the shape of his face, memorizing it. You feel like he's doing the same for you.  
"Never again?" He doesn't respond, guilt washing over his face as he looks back out over your yard. Your heart sinks, and you pull on his hand gently.  
"Robert, look at me, babe." He does, and he seems to get lost again in your eyes. He nods ever so slightly, and then he's not just holding your hand anymore, he's leaning forward, and his face gets so, so close to yours. Despite the fact that you've been closer before, your heart starts hammering with excitement in your chest, and you slip your hands up over his shoulders.  
He cups your face in his hands, and it's already too much and not enough at the same time. His breath tastes like vanilla ice cream, and then he's kissing you. It's like fireworks and first times, as if you were a teenager again. When he pulls away, you almost let out a whine, but he doesn't let go, instead pushing your hair out of your face and smiling at you.  
You're breathless, and he's breathless, and as he kisses your forehead you think to yourself that if heaven is real, it feels exactly like kissing Robert Small. He's looking into your eyes, and it takes all of your willpower to let him finish what he says before kissing him again.  
"For you. Never again."  
And then you’re kissing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I KNOW I SAY THIS EVERY CHAPTER BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS FOR READING AND COMMENTING AND BEING SO AWESOME!! this is definitely gonna be the last chapter for this specific fic but im really hopin i get some kinda inspiration so that i can expand on this miniverse and make it a series of some kind  
> but yeah thank you for reading!!!!  
> EDIT: i now have a tumblr!! come chat with me over at saccharinepeccadillowrites.tumblr.com


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